


Good Gracious

by zetsubonna



Series: Easy Living [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Hot Weather, M/M, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Token Protesting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 09:49:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2146233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetsubonna/pseuds/zetsubonna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic request: Bucky/Steve lazy summer day. It's too hot and they are sweating and they are dirty but they can't stop touching each other and it is filthy and wonderful. Or if it floats your boat: Steve/Bucky/Natasha. -anon by request</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Gracious

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nenemeow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nenemeow/gifts).



> title taken from, obviously, Nelly's "Hot in Herre"

"Mm."

"Bucky."

"Mm."

"Bucky."

"Mhm!"

"Bucky," Steve moaned, shoving Bucky’s hand off his stomach. "Bucky, it’s hot."

"You remember," Bucky murmured, because it was the phrase most guaranteed to get Steve to first listen, and then relent, "The summer of ‘40? Like, mmhmmhmm," he chuckled, and he could feel Steve’s stomach ripple and twitch, the kind of twitch that went lower than anybody other than Bucky would realize. "Week after your birthday?" _  
_

"Oh my God," Steve whined, squirming and shoving at both of Bucky’s hands. "I do, and we didn’t have air conditioning then. The repairman will be here in the morning, you can wait twelve more hours."

"Stevie," Bucky crooned, grinding against his ass. "You’re all sweaty and hot."

“‘Zactly,” Steve confirmed, shoving metal fingers away from his suddenly rock-hard nipple. “Sweaty, hot and gross.”

"Stevie," Bucky licked the back of his neck. "Baby. What about in the shower? I can do you in the shower. Up against the wall."

"Mnn," Steve tried to protest, but opening his mouth got fingers shoved in it, and he was so  _hot_ , he was  _melting_.

"Let me do you here first," Bucky was crooning again. It was his most effective sex voice, Steve had to admit, all rumbling lows and highs that were rich and vibrated like a song in the base of Steve’s spine. "And then in the shower, maybe down on the floor so you can just rest on the side of the tub and you don’t even gotta move."

"Bucky," Steve complained, after biting his fingers until they slipped back out. "It is too hot to screw. It is too hot to be alive. There is literally sweat running down the crack of my ass, that’s not sexy."

"My tongue disagrees," Bucky purred, grinding into him again, and Steve squirmed, trying to unstick his back from Bucky’s front. "I’ve followed those sweat trickles before, doll. All, the, way,  _down_.” He punctuated it with a pronounced gnaw on Steve’s shoulder, and shoulder biting was among Steve’s biggest weaknesses. His hips jerked, and Bucky could almost smell victory. “Want you, baby. Come on, come on. Already sweaty, why not work for it?”

"Not sold," Steve complained. "And- ugh! Ugh, ugh!" He shoved Sergei off his head and on to the floor. The tom complained loudly. "No screwing with cats in the bed, Buck. House rule."

"You’re a cockblock," Bucky informed Sergei as he got up, scooping up the brown tabby with one hand and Maxim with the other. Mavra, who was smarter, trailed along at his feet, knowing what smells meant and when she was meant to be a lady and excuse herself. "Thanks, sugar," he told her, dropping the boys unceremoniously on the floor and closing the door on the three of them. When he turned around, Steve had kicked the sheets all the way down the bed and buried his face in the pillow.

"How’s that song go?" Bucky murmured, crawling up Steve’s body, nipping at his ass and earning himself a light kick in the hip. "Face down, ass up-"

"Seriously?" Steve muttered, reaching back with a pillow and bopping Bucky alongside his head. "Nothin’ doin’. Hot."

"Summer of ‘40," Bucky murmured, "You were so fuckin’ sexy."

"Past tense," Steve agreed. "Old. Hot. Not sexy no more."

"Came home- think it was Thursday? Yes. It was Thursday, because I went to the butcher shop, and he’d’ve been closed Friday for the Sabbath. And there’s my boy, my baby boy, been thinkin’ about me at least a couple hours-"

"You _used to be_   hot, too," Steve said, but he was smirking and Bucky could hear it, so he started wrestling him out of his boxers.

"Cause he’s already down to his skivvies in the sweltering July heat, musta been, God help me, at least ninety degrees even though it was nine at night-"

"It's almost that hot today," Steve told him, smacking at Bucky even with his boxers half down his ass and his weight up on his hands and knees to let it happen.

“So? Still happening,” Bucky informed him. “Got the prettiest little blush going and a shit-eatin’ grin on his face, and I squint ‘cause I can count, literally, count on one hand of fingers at that point, how many times  _you_  asked  _me_ if I wanted to fuck-“

"Never used those words," Steve complained. "Still haven’t."

"If you ever do, we’re gonna break furniture," Bucky promised. "Now, I look over your shoulder because you’re still short- pretty, though, such a pretty little piece of nothin’- and your bed’s all made but mine’s a wreck, stripped down to the bottom sheet, pillows crumpled, towel across the middle, Vaseline on the night stand and I look in those big blue eyes-"

"Like you were gonna eat me," Steve snickered as Bucky jerked his shorts past his knees.

"And you shrugged at me and gave me your best little bad boy grin, like I caught you sneakin’ candy out of the top shelf when your sugar wasn’t low, and you smelled like sweat and slick and the breeze came through the curtain and fuck me if the whole damn room didn’t reek like sex-"

"I don’t know what I was thinkin’," Steve admitted, stuffing the pillows under his hips as Bucky smacked his ass possessively and licked the small of his back.

"You were thinkin’ you wanted my dick," Bucky told him. "And you did, and you got it, didn’t you? And it was hotter than this, and we couldn’t make a peep of noise."

"They’ll be here at eight," Steve complained, and Bucky shook his head and grunted, smacking his ass again. "Okay, okay! Jeez, what do you want?"

"Get the grease out of the drawer, you shit," Bucky ordered, and Steve rocked up on his hands, and Bucky waited until he’d opened the drawer and had his fingers in it before he traced his tongue along the crack of Steve’s ass and made him smother a moan in his bicep. Steve’s knees shook and threatened to give out, and Bucky hummed his approval. "That’s my baby," he purred, and Steve laughed brokenly, falling on his face even as he dropped the lube by his knee.

"You’re the worst," he sighed. "I ain’t movin’. I ain’t helpin’ you at all."

"So lay there and take it, you punk," Bucky advised. "Wouldn’t be the first damn time you made me do all the work." Steve snickered again, lower, hungrier, the blush starting to crawl down his shoulders from the top and making Bucky’s cock even harder. "Oughtta turn the ceilin’ light on to go with the fan, light up that pretty hole so I can see all the way in you."

"Oh my God," Steve groaned, scandalized. "Bucky, that’s  _terrible_. Even for you, that’s terrible.”

"Whatever," Bucky said dismissively, smirking when a single trace around Steve’s taut pucker wasn’t enough of a warning before one skilled finger slick with lube thrust into him up to the second knuckle and elicited a harsh yelp. "God, you’re always so damn  _tight_.”

"You’re-  _awful_ ,” Steve panted. “Oh Christ. Oh my God.”

"Have I thanked you for learning how to talk and fuck at the same time?" Bucky asked. "Because you didn’t used to. I remember you didn’t used to. All you could say was ‘Bucky, Bucky, oh Jesus, Bucky,’ this is much better."

"Screw- you," Steve panted, pushing back on his hands and knees as Bucky added a second finger. "Oh my  _God,_ oh my  _God_ -“

"Did you just offer to do me in the shower?" Bucky asked, raising both eyebrows. "Well, sure, Stevie. If you insist."

"Ain’t doin’ nothin’," Steve huffed, his neck going limp, one hand snaking between his thighs to stroke his cock. "S’too hot to screw. Nngh.  _Bucky_ -“

"Lazy punk," Bucky retorted. "You know what else you can do after you soap me up? You can suck me off. When’s the last time you got your jaw fucked loose, Rogers?"

“ _Bucky_ ,” Steve's shoulders were trembling. Trails of sweat rolled down his back. “Bucky,  _please_ , I can’t- you know talkin' like that drives me crazy, you're doin' it on purpose.“

"I remember," Bucky said, because every time he remembered something about them being together it made Steve go weak-kneed and pliant and sweet and so, so earnest, "I remember you’ve always liked it in your mouth. Birthdays, Christmas, Easter, payday, Tuesday, ration day, Dodgers won a game, Dodgers lost a game, game got rained out, got tickets, couldn’t get tickets, gave up my cigarette money to get tickets, brought you a Hershey bar, brought you a Coke on a day I didn’t have a dame, brought you a pack of pencils-"

Steve snickered again, and it melted into a delicious, resonant sigh that made Bucky’s toes curl and his cock twitch when he twisted in a third finger and hit Steve’s prostate dead-on. “Bucky!”

"You’re so sexy," Bucky lamented. "So goddamn hot, baby doll. You ready? Can I give it to you yet?"

"It’s. Too.  _Hot_.” Steve grated out between his teeth.

“‘Bout to get hotter,” Bucky advised him, smirking. “Hold ‘em open for me.”

"You’re lucky I’m so dizzy with you," Steve mumbled, falling on his face as he reached back to hold his cheeks apart, muffling a yowl in his pillow as Bucky pushed into him, letting go when Bucky’s hips came flush against his ass, wrapping his arms around the pillows instead.

"God _damn_ ,” Bucky hissed through his teeth. “Goddamn, baby.  _Goddamn_.”

"S’too hot," Steve exhaled, soulful and aching, and Bucky made a low noise of agreement as he took hold of Steve’s arms at the elbows and  _jerked_ , collapsing him on his face again right as he began deep, punishing thrusts that made their skins slap together, noisy and wet.

By the time Bucky was tired, Steve was fucked out and  _limping_ , and Bucky was insufferably smug. They held each other up as they struggled to the bathroom, finally getting cool as they rinsed in the water from the wide-angle showerhead as they sprawled out across the floor. It wasn’t really long enough for them to stretch out at length, but they propped themselves against the sides where they needed to and nuzzled at each other until Steve had gathered himself together enough to sit up on his knees while Bucky stood over him and fucked his throat until his jaw ached.

They stayed in the shower until it was dark, then went out and fell on the bed in a tangle of noodle-limp limbs that quickly grew sweaty all over again, and rapidly fading hickies.

* * *

 

When Bucky woke up, the room was cool and Steve wasn’t in bed anymore.

"Punk?" he called.

"Kitchen," Steve replied.

"Breakfast?"

"Lunch."

"Mmph."

Bucky ate his sandwich in bed, the sheet tangled around his hips. “What was the damage on the air conditioner?”

"Not too much," Steve acknowledged, "Routine fix, he said. Apologized for taking so long, even."

"Mm," Bucky chewed and swallowed, eyeballing Steve’s naked back. "Let him in like that?"

"Yeah," Steve admitted. "I was still in bed when he got here, thanks to my idiot fella keeping me up all damn night. What got into you, anyway? You ain’t been like that in ages."

"I like bein’  _warm_ ,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t you?”

Steve smiled in surprise, leaning over and kissing Bucky’s naked hip. “Wasn’t warm. Was  _hot_.”

"I’m pretty hot," Bucky agreed, and Steve bit him.


End file.
